


Confessions and Incense

by werewolfsaz



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Getting Together, Kind of AU, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Possibly Sacrilegious, Priest Harry Hart | Galahad, Undercover, What did I forget?, but worth it, inappropriate use of a confessional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 10:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17021154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werewolfsaz/pseuds/werewolfsaz
Summary: Harry stared at himself in the small, spotted bathroom mirror, wishing for the hundredth time he was at home with his own things around him. He lived for his job, that was obvious enough, but these long undercover ops were beginning to lose their appeal. Maybe he really was starting to get old? Sighing, he shaved carefully and dressed in his cassock, snowy white collar dazzling as he headed towards the church in the early morning sunlight.





	Confessions and Incense

**Author's Note:**

  * For [innerain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerain/gifts).



> Hello!  
> This is my first Hartwin fic so I hope I did okay! I adore these two sexy beasts and love that the possibilities for them are endless.   
> I should note that I know absolutely nothing about churches or confessionals apart from what a brief Google search has taught me.  
> Anyhow, I hope you like my offering to the Hartwin gods. Please leave me a comment or kudos, every one makes me happy. Thank you.  
> Enjoy!

Harry stared at himself in the small, spotted bathroom mirror, wishing for the hundredth time he was at home with his own things around him. He lived for his job, that was obvious enough, but these long undercover ops were beginning to lose their appeal. Maybe he really was starting to get old? Sighing, he shaved carefully and dressed in his cassock, snowy white collar dazzling as he headed towards the church in the early morning sunlight. 

He would never say this to Merlin, but Harry wasn’t entirely convinced that the international drug ring they were hunting was running from this church. There were definitely churches involved, though, how Merlin had singled this one out was beyond Harry. He opened the heavy outer door, the now familiar scents of candles and incense rolling out over him, and glanced around at the beautiful, old building. There had certainly been worst places to be undercover over the years he decided as he performed his morning routines. He shouldn’t complain too much, or Merlin may find him an assignment in the backside of beyond next.

As it was Sunday, the usual volunteers arrived to hand the congregation their hymn books as they started to arrive in ones and twos, shuffling in and making their way to the pews. Harry slipped his vestments on, nodding to the older priest with a smile. Harry wasn’t leading the congregation today, thankfully. He had begged off, stating a bit of a sick headache and a sore throat. Father Richard had been more than happy to take back over his flock. They had grown very fond of Harry and always attended when he was giving the sermons. This time, however, he could watch the gathered people and see if he could spot his target. Best to get on with the job and get out before he got too comfortable.

Father Richard went out as the big doors closed, frowning at the ripple of disappointed murmurs. Harry ducked his head to hide a smile. He took his seat just behind Father Richard, eyes sweeping the throng and froze. There, two rows from the front was a shockingly handsome, shockingly familiar, face. Eyes the blue-green of the sea, a shock of thick sandy blond hair, cheekbones so sharp that they must cut the breeze when it blew across them, skin a healthy peachy flush. Harry swallowed very hard, suddenly feeling quite light-headed. The young man that had arrested his attention was slouched in his seat, garish black and yellow jacket very bright in the early morning church. His glanced around, sea coloured eyes flickering to Father Ricard then dropping. Harry knew he should look away, or at least wind his tongue back into his mouth and mop up the drool. At that exact moment, the young man looked straight at Harry. And winked.

Harry slammed back in his hard seat, coughing to cover the noise, waving an apologetic hand at Father Richard, heart hammering painfully in his chest. He barely paid any attention to the sermon, barely heard the hymns, scarcely remembered to join in the prayers. He wanted to look at the gorgeous young man again. Couldn’t. Did it anyway. And, every time, the man caught Harry’s gaze, held it for indeterminable seconds, then lowered one eyelid in a wink, pale pink lips curving in a soft smile.   
“I will be taking confessions after our closing hymn,” Father Richard was saying, voice muffled by the blood rushing in Harry’s ears. “Father Harry is only taking those he has promised to earlier in the week before he fell ill.”  
Another disappointed grumble. They all wanted a chance to sit alone in the dark with the handsome, gentle, wonderful Father Harry.

Standing for the closing prayer and hymn, Harry had a firm talk with himself. He had not made it so far in his career by letting a pretty face throw him off. The boy was certainly gorgeous and, Harry knew, he would think of him often, in those silent moments of the night when he took himself in hand for some much-needed relief. But, right now, he had a job to do. Ah, there, sat one row from the back. A rather striking lady dressed much too grandly for a simple Sunday church service as the diamonds in her ears and on her fingers evidenced. Next to her sat a young man, son or lover, Harry wasn’t sure yet, who looked utterly bored and rather sullen. Clearly, he had been dragged here against his wishes, judging by the arms crossed over his chest and the pout on his rather too generous mouth. They matched the description Merlin had given him, obtained from the last victim shortly before the drugs caused his heart to implode. 

“Father Harry?”  
It was a light, sweet voice of a young girl, Louise. He had promised to hear her confession today, her and two others. He smiled gently at her, touching his own throat and croaking out an apology.  
“Sorry, I was away in my own world then. Forgive me if I’m quiet today, this sore throat feels rather like I swallowed a handful of nettles.”  
“Oh, please don’t worry. It’s just enough to know you’re listening,” she assured, blushing rosily. Harry smiled again, leading the way to the older confessional. This one was rarely used now, only if there were a truly enormous amount of confessions to be heard or, as now, if there were special circumstances. Whispering the traditional opening in a hoarse voice, Harry relaxed into the cushioned seat to hear what the girl had to say. How innocent she was to think that fancying someone that didn’t attend church meant she had to run for confession! Harry assured her that it was perfectly alright, that the person was more important than their religious beliefs. He was sure God would understand as long as the person was good to her and supported her.

Once Louise had gone, almost tearfully grateful for Harry’s encouragement, he listened to the others he had promised to hear. One was a truly unpleasant man that had gambled away a great deal of money and was afraid to tell his wife they were very nearly bankrupt. The other was an elderly lady that had been working her way through the gentlemen of her retirement home with an almost inhuman determination. Harry had advised one to be honest and to, for the love of all that was good, stop and the other to maybe take a break for the sake of her heart and the health of her partners. They had both left with promises to do just that, though Harry was sure they would probably break those promises fairly quickly. Just as he was about to exit the confessional, the adjoining door creaked open and closed and a figure settled in the seat beyond the screen.  
“I’m sorry,” Harry croaked. “But I am not taking any more confessions today. Father Richard…”  
“You’ll fuck up your throat putting on that voice.”

Harry blinked, blushing hotly, glad the other couldn’t see him.  
“What the hell are you doing here, Eggsy?” he demanded in a low voice. “I am perfectly capable of following this lead alone you know.”  
“I know. Happy accident, really, was followin’ me own lead and ended up ‘ere. When I saw you sat there, all dressed like that, dog collar an’ all…, nearly had a heart attack.”  
Harry swallowed, closing his eyes for a moment to gather some serenity. Seeing his young friend, Gary ‘Eggsy’ Unwin, in the congregation had nearly had the same effect on Harry. Those damnedable cheekbones and sea coloured eyes always made the older man’s mind leap off into perfectly perverse directions, much as they had this very morning.   
“Well, lucky for us, we all managed to avoid a coronary event,” the older agent whispered back. “I have to get back to my duties so…”  
“Harry.”

It was his voice too, Harry realised at that moment, it had the power to freeze him in the same way his eyes did. Eggsy was a very dangerous young man, especially to Harry Hart.   
“I’ve missed you these last coupla weeks,” Eggsy murmured, voice dropping low and warm as he moved closer to the screen separating them. “It’s been weird without you around. I don’t like it when you’re not there. I miss the sound of your voice an’ how you sing all quiet like when you’re cookin’. I miss not being able to tell you about my missions and you telling me how good I was or what I did that could be better.”  
Harry stilled, heart thumping painfully as Eggsy spoke. He had moved closer to the screen too, wanting to be as close to the young man as he could in this dark, warm, oddly intimate setting.   
“I’ve missed hearing about your exploits, I must admit,” Harry replied, lips curving in a soft smile. “You are always so full of excitement about them, so eager to tell every detail.”  
“Only to you, Harry,” Eggsy stressed. “I only want to come home to you and tell you what happened and listen to you critic my actions. I love how serious your face gets, ‘specially if I’ve got hurt. You really show you care then.”  
“I do care,” Harry whispered, harsher than he intended, more like he was trying not to shout. “I care so much it drives me wild to think that you’re out there in danger. And there’s nothing I can do about it because I’m the one that dragged you into this life. All I can do is wait for you to come back and hope that you are alright and try to show you how to be more careful in future!”

Harry was breathing hard from the effort of keeping his voice down, not wanting to draw attention to them in this quiet, dark, secluded corner. As the silence stretched on, however, he realised he may have said too much, may have let Eggsy, brilliant, talented, gorgeous Eggsy, in on the secret Harry had been harbouring for quite some time now. Harry knew he was a perfect idiot, a foolish old lecher, to have such desires for a boy young enough to be his own son. But it didn’t stop his heart from beating hard at the sound of Eggsy’s sleep rough voice first thing in the morning or his whole body shuddering with delight when the young man hugged him in those impulsive displays of affection he frequently displayed. It didn’t stop him from pacing the floors at 3am when Eggsy was on a mission or from the cold sickness from settling in his stomach when he heard from Merlin that the boy had been injured. Somewhere along the path they had travelled together, from stranger with a debt, to recruiter, to friends and colleagues, Harry Hart had finally, for the first time in his life, fallen in love. He had vowed, about the time he had realised his feelings, that he would never tell Eggsy. The lad didn’t need to be burdened by what, more than likely, would be unwelcome attentions. 

“My life was so very bland before you came along,” Harry was muttering, not even aware that he was, so caught up in his whirlwind of emotions. “I was alone and thought it better that way. But, being alone on this mission, I realised how much I missed you. Your trainers by the door and JB by the fire and you curled on the couch, watching some rubbish on TV. I have gotten used to the noises made by another person, by you, and I find that I am uncomfortable without them. I miss hearing you sing in the shower, even if it is some pop song I don’t know. You have a perfectly lovely voice, I could listen to you for hours. The amount of space you take up in my thoughts is truly alarming. I was afraid I had developed some kind of illness to begin with but then Merlin told me I was in love with you and that I was being stupid. You know how Merlin is. Of course, then I remembered the age gap and I knew you would never be interested in me…”  
The door to Harry’s side of the confessional was yanked open and, for a heart-stopping moment, he thought someone had heard them was bursting in to confront him or with gun drawn. But it was Eggsy, wide eyes, red-faced and breathing heavily.   
“What the fuck took you so long?”

Harry didn’t have a chance to reply before the younger man was wedging himself in the confession box with him, the door closing as he climbed into Harry’s lap.   
“I’ve been trying to make you see that I can’t stop thinking about you, that I want you… That I love you, you fucking posh git,” Eggsy breathed, face an inch from Harry’s own. “I wanted you to figure it out, but you didn’t seem to be getting the hints. I don’t normally go down to breakfast in just tiny, skin-tight black briefs, you know.”  
Eggsy grinned, head ducking, lips hovering over Harry’s for a moment.   
“If we could, I’d never be further away from you than this,” he whispered, eyes flickering up to gaze into Harry’s beautiful brown ones, one hand sliding up to caress his face carefully. “And fuck the age gap. I don’t care about that. You are brilliant, kind, sexy as fuck and the most perfect person that has ever existed. What’s age compared to that?”

Harry could only stare at the gorgeous young man straddling his lap in the cramped box, heart jumping in his throat, the blood that was not rushing south pounding in his ears, mouth suddenly dry.   
“Eggsy…”  
“Harry don’t even try it. You’re mine now. We finally said it. Our lives are so crazy that I’m not gonna let you get away from me for even one second longer.”  
Neither of them was sure who closed that hair’s breadth gap, but their lips touched, and it was like a match to gas. There was no hesitancy, no uncertainty, not any more. Eggsy dived into the kiss like he did everything else, wholeheartedly and recklessly. Harry brought a measure of control to it, guiding the flash point of Eggsy’s heat to a mutually pleasurable first kiss. Harry had kissed before, had been on his fair share of honeypot missions, and he was quite good at it if he did say so himself. But under the onslaught of Eggsy’s mouth, the fire that they sparked in his body, he was a rank amateur.   
“My darling boy,” he gasped between ravishing kisses. “My beautiful, daring love.”  
“Harry,” Eggsy breathed the name like a prayer, hands burying themselves in the older man’s silver-streaked hair. “I love you, Harry. Have done for ages. Wanted you like this for even longer. Want to kiss you, touch you, get lost in you…”

Harry wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, clinging desperately to each other, kissing feverishly, breathing their own confessions in the heated air between them, touching what they could in the limited space. Harry was vaguely aware of Eggsy moving, slipping lower down, away from his kiss-swollen lips. Nimble fingers explored the clothes Harry was currently sweltering in, tugging, popping, unzipping with deft skill.   
“My love, what…?” he mumbled, dazed. Then delicious, wet heat engulfed Harry’s aching cock, making him gasp out a hastily bitten off noise. Jamming his fist into his mouth, the older agent looked down at his new lover, caught in those glittering eyes again.  
“Forgive me, Father,” Eggsy whispered, grinning wickedly as he lapped at the glistening head of Harry’s dick. “For I have sinned. I’ve never confessed before but,” here he paused to suckle the shaft in front of him again, listening to Harry’s throaty moan. “I feel I am going to be sinning a lot in future.”  
“I’m sure God will understand,” the older man panted, free hand winding into Eggsy’s thick, sandy hair. “Or at least look the other way. A gentleman never looks.”  
The grin on Eggsy’s face made Harry’s stomach flutter as if an entire swarm of butterflies had erupted in it. Then his mouth closed around Harry’s cock again and all conscious thought fled.

The soft noises that slipped around his lover’s fist spurred Eggsy on, made him try harder than he had ever dreamed of to bring him to completion. There were so many things he wanted to do to, and with, Harry. This was just the first of many salacious plans he had of the gorgeous man. Looking up through his lashes, Eggsy moaned himself as the wrecked look on Harry’s face. The man was usually so poised, so perfectly put together. Now, however, he was biting his knuckles to keep the noises in, strong thighs taut and trembling as he tried to refrain from thrusting into Eggsy’s mouth.   
“Darling,” Harry gasped suddenly, the hand in Eggsy’s hair gripping tighter. “Dearest… I’m… Oh!”  
Stroking a soothing hand up Harry’s thigh, loving the feel of the firm flesh under his fingers, Eggsy redoubled his efforts, letting the flared head of his lover’s cock slide down his throat, swallowing around it. Harry suddenly bucked, biting even harder into his hand as the fire Eggsy had sparked in him flared to incineration point and burst from him. He felt pulse after pulse flood into the younger man’s mouth, felt his throat work as he swallowed down every drop that Harry had to offer him. 

It seemed to take several long, seemingly endless moments for Harry to regain his composure. He looked down at Eggsy as the world around him glittered in the afterglow of a truly magnificent, mind-blowing orgasm.   
“Beautiful boy,” he whispered, reaching out for the sandy-haired man, drawing him up into his lap again for a long, lingering kiss. “What can I do for you? Please, anything…”  
“Your hand,” Eggsy rushed out, fumbling with his jeans, shoving them down so that Harry had access. “I just want you to touch me. Probably gonna embarrass myself ‘ere but I want your hand on me so bad.”  
Who could refuse such a request? Not Harry Hart, certainly. With a low growl, the other man reached out and closed one large, powerful hand around the hot, quivering length of his lover. Eggsy gasped, arching into the touch, fingers digging into Harry’s shoulders as the rough warmth of that dearly loved palm caressed him. A thousand fantasies reached fulfilment at that moment and every single one paled in comparison to reality. Harry’s free arm slid around Eggsy’s waist, supporting him, as he pumped his hand in long, smooth motions, thumb swirling across the leaking slit of the younger man’s cock, heightening his pleasure. Eggsy was balancing on the razor edge of release, he needed just one more thing, one push…  
“My gorgeous, beautiful Gary,” Harry breathed, lips brushing against the column of his throat as he murmured the endearment. “Let me see you come undone for me.”  
That was it, the last push. Eggsy heaved in a breath to cry out his pleasure as he came, spilling over Harry’s hand. But the older man sensed the lack of control in his young lover and tugged him down into a lung-searing kiss, breathing in the cry of pleasure before it could echo around every inch of the church.

They stayed in the friendly darkness of the confessional for some unknown time, miraculously undiscovered as they came down from the heavens of their shared pleasure. Eggsy grinned as he kissed Harry’s cheeks, neck, nose, forehead and lips. Harry stifled a giggle as the younger man lavished kisses on him, wrapping his arm tightly around the lithe body in his lap.  
“As delightful and enlightening as this has been, my darling, I still have a case to solve,” Harry sighed regretfully. Eggsy burrowed closer to him, sighing heavily as he did.  
“Well, I followed my lead here, Freddy Barns. I bet he’s long gone with that mother of his by now.”  
“We have been following the same lead, my love,” Harry grinned. “I was going to arrange to hear Mrs Barns confession this week and get her that way. Wrap it all up in a nice bow and be home before Saturday.”  
Eggsy sat back, studying Harry with a smirk.  
“I’m off on Saturday. IF I get this sorted first,” he announced.  
“What an astonishing thing,” Harry exclaimed in mock surprise. “I do believe Saturday was to be my day off if I squared this horrible business away of course.”

Eggsy laughed softly, bending to kiss Harry again as he stood and rearranged his clothing.  
“First one to get a confession wins. Loser buys dinner,” he offered, grinning teasingly. Harry stood too, the pair stood chest to chest in the small space, arms wrapped around each other for a few seconds longer.  
“When will we have time to go out to dinner?” Harry murmured into Eggsy’s delicate ear. “I fully intend to spend the entire day and night ravishing you to the point of exhaustion, darling boy.”  
Eggsy swallowed hard, face flushing at the thought of being at Harry’s mercy for an extended period of time.  
“Loser has to order takeout,” Eggsy amended, shuddering as Harry’s lips brushed his neck again.   
“Race you,” Harry whispered, kissing him hard for a moment before slipping around the younger man and out into the incense heavy air of the church.


End file.
